A Long Way to Home
by Leydhawk
Summary: Why is Tim so terrified of demons? Could it have something to do with events from 2001 when he and Sam spent time together at Stanford? How will Sam's revelation of what happened back then affect them now? An interlude between stories 3 and 4 for the Home series. Unnecessary for the overall storyline. Complete.


A/N I wanted to share a bit I'd written of Tim and Sam during Sam's first summer at Stanford. So this is an interlude between Heading Out Toward Home and A Candle to Lead You Home. Not necessary to the overall story series, but I hope you like it.

~~~SPNCIS~~~

Sam Winchester knew his lover feared demons. He hadn't realized until their recent encounter with one that Tim McGee's fear had reached almost pathological levels. It was time to tell Tim why demons provoked such a strong reaction in him, but before he began that discussion, Sam wanted to get it all straight in his head...

~~~SPNCIS~~~

June 2001, Stanford University

Sam Winchester took a seat in the back of the computer lab and waited for the special guest professor to show up. A summer seminar in computer forensics sounded like a great way to kill six weeks of time while most students were home for the break.

"Uh, hello. My name is Timothy McGee, I'll be teaching your seminar on computer forensics."

Sam's head snapped up, a smile filling his face. Tim McGee! He looked eagerly to the front of the room to see his old friend. Tim appeared to have grown another few inches, and he wore a jacket and tie. His skin was much clearer than it had been when they'd last seen one another, but his big blue-green eyes and earnest expression hadn't changed.

Tim was taking roll and stopped when his eyes caught the last name on the list. They widened in shock and he looked up, scanning faces and smiling when he locked eyes with Sam. Nodding to Sam, he finished roll call and began to fumble with papers on the desk at the front of the room. He managed to get through discussion of the required text and the syllabus, then opened the floor to questions about the class. Two of the students began picking on him immediately with questions designed to make Tim look dumb. Sam fumed as Tim stammered and blushed.

"Mr McGee, where did you train?" Sam asked.

"MIT and Johns Hopkins."

"And you are currently working for...?"

"NCIS."

"That would be Naval Criminal Investigative Service, a Federal law enforcement agency with global authority regarding the United States Navy and Marine Corps?" Sam pressed. He saw the two troublemakers exchange glances and wilt.

"That is correct, Mr Winchester. Now, if there are no further questions, let's look at an overview of-"

Tim took the boost Sam had given him and ran with it. When the class broke for lunch, the other students left the lab and Tim met Sam halfway up to the front of the room and shook his hand, hugging him with a backslap.

"Thanks, Sam. Some things never change."

"It's so good to see you, Tim! You're gonna be here all summer?"

"Yeah, for the duration of the class. I'm on call if I'm needed for any work stuff, but I had been asked to do this before I started at NCIS, and they agreed to let me keep my commitment. Considering I'm assigned to Norfolk, VA, I'll enjoy a last summer out here," Tim said. He couldn't keep the smile from his face as he spoke to Sam.

"That's right, you lived in northern California growing up," Sam recalled.

"For a while, yeah, Alameda. So... How'd you manage to get here? I figured your dad..."

"Let's go get lunch and talk."

They spent the lunch break catching up. Tim commiserated with Sam's problems with his father and expressed his amazement that Sam had been able to break away from that toxic home life.

"That must have been very difficult. You were always so strong, I'm not surprised, but I am impressed. Good for you, Sam."

Sam found himself really moved, appreciating Tim's support more than he could have imagined.

"It's great to see you, Tim," Sam said, clapping him on the back.

They spent lunches and evenings together for the rest of the week. Tim showed Sam some computer games he enjoyed, and they slid easily back into the camaraderie they'd shared back in Arizona when they'd spent two weeks hanging out every day in the abandoned house which had been Tim's getaway and Sam's home after he'd run away from his brother and father.

When Friday came around, Sam suggested they drive over to San Francisco. He hadn't been yet, and wanted to see the city. Tim readily agreed, seeming happy to have a chance to show Sam one of his childhood homes.

~~~SPNCIS~~~

_Sam figured that was when the demon caught scent of them. There had been a sushi place they went to every weekend, and on their first night, there had been another 'Sam' as well as another 'Tim' on the waiting list, so Sam had given them his last name. The server had flirted outrageously with both of them, had brought the chef out to meet them, and had made them promise to come back. The food had been so good they'd kept the promise, and they had been received warmly each time they returned. The chef or servers greeted them, calling out 'Winchestah!', and Tim had grinned so big that Sam had encouraged it jokingly. If he had only known his unique surname would cause such trouble..._

~~~SPNCIS~~~

They were inseparable for weeks, Sam learning as much as he could in Tim's class, channeling Dean's sarcasm whenever other students attempted to make Tim's life harder, and they enjoyed hanging out with all of their free time. The two previous times they'd met had been when they were both basically still kids, and as young men, their experience together was different. They discussed everything; from the difficulties in their family lives to politics, girls they'd dated and what they each hoped for in a long term relationship to their favorite foods.

The Saturday before the final week of Tim's stay, he convinced Sam to go with him to a jazz concert in Golden Gate Park. It was surprisingly crowded, and they were separated several times. When it was over, they began the long walk back to Sam's car. He had parked at the beach at the west end of the park and they'd gotten their exercise going to and from. The dark, late night solitude soothed Sam: he had enjoyed the music but was never one for crowds.

"Where is your dad now, do you think?" Tim asked, breaking their companionable silence.

"All over. I'm sure he and Dean are wherever the hunting takes them."

"You could call them and find out, couldn't you?" Tim's voice sounded odd.

Sam frowned. "I guess. But I'm not gonna. Why would I?"

"To save your own skin?"

"What?"

They were passing through a forested section of the park, and in the darkness, Sam didn't see that Tim had picked up a broken branch. When he turned to his friend questioningly, the branch caught him under the chin and he was knocked out cold.

Sam woke tied up. He was seated on a concrete floor with his back against a piece of machinery, arms spread wide and pulled back so far his shoulders ached. Looking around, he found he was in a garage or large shed with grounds keeping equipment. Craning his neck, he saw that he was tied to a riding lawnmower. Tim stood next to a bench a few feet away. A bare, high wattage light bulb hanging from the ceiling harshly illuminated the small space, and Sam blinked in the brightness.

"The hell is going on?" Sam asked groggily. Tim turned, and the sly smile he gave confirmed Sam's suspicion: this was not his friend.

"Hmm, _Sam Winchester_. I was hoping for some 'alone time' with you," Tim said, his eyes hooded as he looked down at him. Sam's eyes widened, then narrowed.

"Where's Tim?" He demanded.

Tim tapped his temple. "He's in here. He's kinda sleepy, though. He fought hard and made himself all tired," the voice was Tim's but had a weird sing-song kind of lilt to it. Sam scowled.

"What are you?"

"Not very bright, are you big boy?" Tim approached, knelt down, and ran his fingers through Sam's hair. Sam jerked, trying to move away from the touch. Tim's fingers gripped and twisted, yanking hard. Sam gritted his teeth and asked the only question that mattered.

"Where. Is. Tim."

Tim slapped him, rolling those familiar, expressive eyes and standing up. He walked the two steps back to the workbench.

"I thought you were supposed to be the smart one, _college boy_. But I guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree," he turned back, holding a narrow, pointed metal tool. An awl, Sam thought. He swallowed hard. "Where is daddy dearest?"

"I don't know," Sam growled. Tim rolled his eyes. His movements were odd, not like Tim at all. His hips swayed as he began to pace, slapping the awl against his palm.

"Right. He travels a lot. _For work_." Tim picked up another object from the bench. It was Sam's cell phone. "But you can call him. You can find out where he is."

Sam glared. "I can. But I won't."

Tim pouted, then set the phone back down and licked his lips in a disturbingly lascivious way. "So I get to have some fun making you do it." His shoulders rose and the excited smile he gave looked for a moment like Tim did when he was genuinely excited. Sam's stomach turned over.

"Where is Tim?" Sam again demanded.

"Sheesh! Broken record much? I already told you," he rested his hand on his chest in a dramatic gesture. "He's here. Which means, if you don't do what I want," he leaned down and put his face so close to Sam's that Sam felt his warm breath across his lips. He turned his head in disgust. "I can hurt you," Tim pinched Sam's chin and shook it. "By hurting this body."

Sam's breath was coming faster. He had to figure this out and get free. He had to find a way to get the ghost or demon or whatever it was out of Tim without killing him. When Tim rose to resume pacing, Sam searched the room for anything he might use. There was a bag of rock salt against one wall, and tools all over which could be used as weapons. Sam was confident he could kill Tim in an instant if he got free, but needed a non-lethal solution.

"Mmm, let's see," Tim said, looking off to one side as if he were thinking hard, searching his mind for something. "Oh! Of course. He's a total nerd," Tim sneered. "Computers, video games, all that. He needs his hands for that, right?" He put his left hand on the bench and raised the awl.

"No!" Sam yelled. Tim plunged the awl down, then jerked it back up revealing blood on the tip. Gasping, the creature inside Tim was obviously feeling the pain.

"Hmm, he is a lefty, right?" Tim was panting lightly, a distinctly sexual edge apparent in his response to the pain. Sam wanted to vomit. Seeing his friend being used as a meat suit and abused for gratification was revolting.

Sam struggled. "Stop it!" He realized his only play would be to distract the creature from its grisly work. "Why do you want my dad?" Tim paused and turned back to him. He approached, and Sam again noticed the distinctly feminine movement.

"Did you know that demons can have families, too? I had a sister. We were close. Our father would send us on assignments together, and we had so much fun!"

Sam's mouth twisted. So this was a demon possessing Tim. He could only imagine what types of horror would be 'fun' to such a creature. He ran through all he knew about demons as he ranted; he was barely listening to him.

"And then your daddy had to interrupt us when we were playing with a sweet young thing;" Tim's eyes grew misty and Sam wanted to shout in defiance at the pure evil inside his kind, funny, brilliant friend. "Oh, she was a screamer..." Tim bit his bottom lip. "And your daddy just burst in, waving his shotgun and throwing holy water, and my sister wasn't fast enough and got sent back to hell!"

Tim was furious now, pacing rapidly, and he slapped Sam again as he went by.

"You mean you abandoned her. Some sister," Sam scoffed. He immediately regretted the comment when Tim glared at him and raised the awl again. The demon stabbed Tim's left hand again, crying out. Sam conceived a desperate ploy.

"How is it, trying to crawl back out of hell? I bet you've been living it up while your sister suffers, haven't you?"

Tim's face twisted in a snarl, his eyes flashing black. Sam jerked his wrists, feeling them begin to bleed, hoping the blood would lubricate his bindings enough to get free. He scowled at the demon, jutting his chin out defiantly.

The demon threw down the awl in rage and fell on Sam, slapping him, scratching his face and neck. The creature in Tim had little self-restraint, and Sam wondered if he'd pushed too hard too fast as his head slammed back against the frame of the mower and his vision narrowed.

The demon climbed off of him, snarling and shaking, obviously struggling to control the rage Sam's taunting had engendered.

"Oh, you're good, aren't you. You'd rather I kill you than give up your family. Well, that's not going to happen. I'm gonna have some fun before you die," the demon said. Pacing, this time more slowly, it then turned back to him. "Did you know that we can read the minds of the people we possess? And it is quite a hot mess in here with little Timmy," the demon smirked. "He's all _conflicted_ over his feelings for you, Sammy. Do you know how _devastated_ he was in Arizona when you didn't even leave him a _note_? But he's too pathetic to even say anything, just welcomed you back into his life with no questions asked! I think he _likes_ you, Sam. A little more than you like him. Hmm, maybe I should give you a little taste of what he's dreamt about..."

The demon leaned in close. Sam's heart pounded. He hoped the demon had been truthful earlier, that Tim wasn't aware of what was going on. The shame he knew his friend would feel having everything he'd ever thought or felt twisted and exposed could devastate the man. Tim's full lips pressed against Sam's and Sam uncomfortably noted an electric zing passed through his body though he held himself completely still and unresponsive, even when the demon forced Tim's tongue into his mouth, swirling against Sam's. He withdrew, biting Sam's lip, drawing blood.

"Oh you are a Winchester aren't you. So stoic-" The demon stopped. Tim licked his lips, and his eyes went wide. "It _can't_ be! You... _Damnit_!" Fury made Tim's body tremble, and the demon's eyes flashed black again, glaring murder at Sam from an inch away. "My father's gonna kill me," Tim's voice dropped to a mutter. Sam wriggled his wrists, stifling a groan as he tore more skin from his hands, pulling free. Taking advantage of the demon's distraction and silently asking Tim's forgiveness, he grabbed Tim's face and slammed his head forward in a powerful head butt. Tim sprawled backward, and suddenly smoke erupted from his mouth, swirling rapidly up and out of the small building.

~~~SPNCIS~~~

Sam barely recalled the story he'd told Tim when the other man had woken with no memory of the possession. He shook his head, thinking about the kiss, wondering about the chance they'd missed out on that summer. The intensity could very well have torn them apart had they tried to have a relationship back then. He just hoped that confessing the truth wouldn't damage what they had now. He went into the bedroom where Tim was watching a concert on his big flat screen tv.

"Tim? Baby, I need to tell you something..."

~~~SPNCIS~~~

"...I think it was Meg. She must have tasted her father's blood in me and so she took off instead of risking his wrath if she hurt me. I'm glad, since back then all I knew about demons was holy water, salt, and reading an exorcism, which I didn't have. I'm so sorry I lied to you, though. I was trying to protect you, and-"

"Sam, I knew." Sam looked over sharply. "Thank you for telling me everything you remember, but I already knew," Tim sighed. "I was so ashamed of what she revealed, and I was confused when I came to, so it was just easier to pretend... I'm sorry I lied to you, too."

Sam pulled Tim close.

"I fought her, Sam. I fought so hard when she first possessed me, but I was trapped in my own body, and she was so strong and so vile and depraved..." Tim whispered. The nightmares had faded over the years but had been nightly when he first moved to Norfolk. "I stopped fighting after that first struggle, but when she decided to torture you, I had to try. I pressured her, trying to insinuate thoughts into her mind that it would be better to hurt me, my body, than you. I couldn't stand seeing her hurt you, and the things she planned... When that worked, I had to use all my strength to keep the injuries she inflicted on either of us minor. I was so relieved when I woke up, and you were so tender, taking care of me afterward, I-I couldn't admit I knew what had happened."

"Oh baby. I was just thinking and wondering if we missed out on all these years together. Maybe if I had just..."

"Sam, I wasn't ready. I was so ashamed of how I felt about you... Don't second guess. Everything we have right now is exactly what I want."

Sam smiled. "Me too. I do have one question for you, though."

With his face still pressed close to Sam's chest, Tim felt it when Sam's slow heartbeat picked up and he was baffled what Sam would be so anxious over asking.

"What is it?"

Sam hesitated. He'd never wanted anything as much as this. He tightened his arms around Tim. "I wanna stay. Tim, can I stay?"

Sam's request was so simple, so vulnerable and open that Tim paused, breathless. He could hear the question for what it was; a vow, a promise of always. With his whole heart, Tim could answer truthfully and unreservedly.

"Yes, Sam. My home is your home."

"No, Tim," Sam smiled, light-headed with relief and wonder that they'd come so far. "_You_ are my home."

The End

~~~SPNCIS~~~

A/N If you enjoyed this, please check out Tim's Long Way to Home, the companion piece from Tim's perspective. And writers love reviews. Just sayin'. ;-)


End file.
